When Angels Scream and Devils Cry
by Opinionated Asmodeus
Summary: Time has a capricious nature in the Underworld, the concept and meaning of it lost upon the demonic hordes that rise up against them. There is no point in trying to keep track of it when it can run backwards, slow to a crawl, stop completely and loop back in on itself from one breath to the next.
1. Chapter 1

Time has a capricious nature in the Underworld, the concept and meaning of it lost upon the demonic hordes that rise up against them. There is no point in trying to keep track of it when it can run backwards, slow to a crawl, stop completely and loop back in on itself from one breath to the next. They merely adjust, for that is what they have always done with each situation they are thrown into. They adjust until they are no longer able to. Thankfully their capabilities are limitless in comparison to the time of their youth, though Vergil's methods are far more questionable than Dante's, and so there is nothing that can even come close to stopping them.

Dante doesn't bother to bring up Vergil's follies, once has already been more than enough for the both of them, and Vergil is somewhat grateful for his silence on the matter. As much as Vergil doesn't deserve it he is far more grateful for Dante's companionship in what they both know Vergil had intended to be a one-way trip to fix one of his gravest sins. There had been no deterring Dante from coming with, not that Vergil had put any sort of effort in trying to keep Dante from joining him. Vergil is certain, to a degree, that there is more to his decision than he had initially stated, as keeping an eye on Vergil's personage is the flimsiest of excuses. He can press for the truth, if he so desires, but he is content to let the matter be.

As the fighting starts to lull, the rank and file demons grotesquely painting the ground with their blood and decaying flesh, Vergil takes stock in their surroundings. The ruined Qliphoth has become a hazy fixture on the horizon behind the , and there is nothing else for as far as the eye can see in every other direction. Vergil feels the weight of Dante's gaze on his back, an increasingly frequent occurrence that he has noticed but never gives any thought to as they wander the Underworld aimlessly. Vergil does wonder what goes through Dante . head at times, and now he am curious as to what he can possibly be thinking about as he stares at him in silence.

It becomes something of a game, one that Vergil hadn't realized he is participating in until he catches himself risking glances at Dante in the heat of battle not even moments after that instance. Dante's movements have become seamless as he shifts between a myriad of styles and weaponry that he has accrued over the years, absolutely none of it wasted. Vergil can almost liken it to a dance that only Dante knows the steps to, and the more he watch him the more his pulse quickens.

Vergil's inattention is punished with a deep score to his side, which isn't a problem for his innate regenerative abilities to take care of, but it is embarrassing to be injured all the same. Vergil doesn't even have to look back towards Dante to know that he's aware of his injury, his gaze flashing to Vergil for a brief second as he scents his blood on the air. Vergil expects him to make a jab towards his skills, as has been customary between them when one of them slips up, but Dante goes against that very grain as he hacks his way through the demons to reach Vergil's side. He fights like a man possessed, fiery red ethereal swords trailing behind him and cutting down every other demon that is not directly in his path.

"You're hurt." Dante's voice is half-distorted, as though he is on the verge of Triggering, and ladened with genuine concern. Uncharacteristic worry etches lines into his face that almost seems years younger than Vergil has last observed, but he brushes that off as something trivial in comparison to the fact that Dante is openly worrying over him.

"I'll be fine." Vergil internally winces at how chilly his voice sounds, and for a second Dante hesitates, something else rather uncharacteristic of him. "I let my focus slip." Vergil's confession comes out in a much softer tone, surprising not only himself but Dante as well, if his expression is anything to go by, with Vergil's sudden willingness to admit to a moment of weakness. "I will be fine, Dante," Vergil asserts as he turns away from Dante, taking care to keep his voice as neutral as possible. Dante's gaze weighs on his back far heavier than before, making Vergil feel like a coward for trying to avoid him and his concern, but he doesn't press the issue any further.

Another wave of demons falls upon the quickly enough, and like before Vergil finds his gaze drawn back to Dante's form. He is more mindful of this growing habit, so as to not sustain another injury, and watches Dante expertly carve through swathes of demons. There is an undeniable beauty in the way he moves, effortlessly twisting out of the way of an incoming attack and then following it up with a precise slash that is often enough to finish off nearly everything that has risen against them. For one brief second Dante's gaze meets Vergil's and it is right then that he makes the connection. Vergil wants his brother in a way that is taboo among humans.

Dante can't be picking up on that, can he? It isn't impossible, but it is unlikely given that Dante isn't incredibly observant. Or maybe Vergil is not giving Dante enough credit when it comes to paying attention. Vergil's own attention has slipped enough, the blood staining his side and coat verifiable proof to that extent. Still, that doesn't tell him if Dante is even willing to give something like that consideration when even Vergil knows that he's only ever shown interest in women. Vergil has to gauge his willingness without raising his suspicion, a momentous task in and of itself without any outside interference…unless he can use the fighting to his advantage.

Vergil hesitates to do anything at the first opportunity presented to him as they pass by one another with just a hairsbreadth of space between them. Dante doesn't seem to notice, but as more opportunities come and go without Vergil doing anything he suspects that Dante's aware that something is going on. Vergil's suspicions are confirmed when Dante looks at him directly at what is the twelfth time they move by each other. His expression is maddeningly unreadable to Vergil, but that instance is where he finally falters while Dante simply continues onwards. It is almost enough to earn Vergil another injury, but before the blow can be delivered the near-faceless demon is impaled by one of Dante's summoned swords.

Dante makes quick work of the remaining demons and Vergil feels…ashamed that he has let himself become so careless. All in the pursuit of something that may very well be beyond his reach. It is foolish of him to even entertain the notion when he should simply be content with Dante's presence.

"Something is clearly eating at you, Vergil, so let's just cut past the bullshit and start with what has you so damned distracted." Dante's tone is as brusque as the words coming out of his mouth and he gives Vergil's bloodied side an incredibly pointed look. His gaze quickly slides up to Vergil's and his chest tightens uncomfortably at the seriousness and concern he finds there. "And don't you dare tell me you're fine because that and that tells me you aren't fine." He points accusingly at Vergil's side and then at the demon that he had slain before it could inflict a wound on him.

Vergil freezes up immediately, having wanted to avoid being so direct with his intentions when he doesn't even know if Dante is at least receptive towards the idea. Unmistakeable fear claws through him. Fear of rejection. Fear of Dante using this against him. Fear of Dante turning against him. Fear of Dante pitying him. Vergil can live with rejection so long as that is the only outcome, but between the rest… Vergil is wholly incapable of handling any of those situations. It will simply be too much.

"Verge?" Dante's tone is considerably softer when Vergil doesn't immediately respond and he starts to approach him with a faint frown.

"I can't." Vergil's voice is a strained whisper, but Dante hears it clearly and pauses mid-step, his brows knitting together. Vergil arbitrarily notes that he looks impossibly younger, almost at the age when they had clashed at Temen-ni-gru, but it is a trivial observation to make in this moment.

"Can't? Can't what, Verge?" Dante finishes the step forwards and watches Vergil carefully as he takes another, while panic bubbles up inside of Vergil. It must be as clear as day on Vergil's face because he pauses again and raises both hands in a gesture meant to show that he isn't a threat. "Hey, bro, whatever it is, you can tell me. We can work through it together."

Vergil wants to believe him, he wants is so badly, but his fear is so utterly paralyzing. Irrationally so. "Dante, I…" Vergil's tongue fails him where it never has before, and he can feel his hands shake ever so slightly. If Dante notices then he doesn't give any indication and instead takes another step towards Vergil. There are now a total of four steps between them. Four too little.

"Vergil…" Dante's tone is pleading as he presses for the answer Vergil desperately does not want to give. "You're my brother, so you know that whatever it is that's eating away at you probably won't bother me. We all have had our issues, but we're good now. I don't see anything that can mess that up."

A sliver of hope blossoms just enough for Vergil to swallow down his fear. "I want you." The words feel heavy on his tongue, but he says them before he can change his mind.

Dante blinks a few times, brows furrowing as he processes Vergil's statement then gives him a look of confusion. "I'm right…oh." He blinks again as he seems to come to the conclusion of precisely what Vergil means and then a grin steals over his face.

Vergil's hope crumbles immediately and, before Dante has the chance to respond in one of the ways he had feared that Dante would, he bolts. The shift to his Sin Trigger is instantaneous as he desperately runs away from Dante, but he cannot outrun the shame he feels. Dante gives chase in his own Sin Trigger form, and knowing that they are evenly matched Vergil pushes himself to keep ahead of Dante. As if to spite him, Dante catches up almost effortlessly and sends them both crashing to the ground with an aerial tackle.

Dante surprisingly takes the full brunt of the impact, his wings wrapped around the both of them as they tear a long furrow through the hard-packed Underworld earth. Before they can even come to a complete stop Vergil tries to break free, but Dante's hold on him is unyielding. "Vergil, stop!"

Vergil goes completely slack in Dante's grasp at the sharp command, his heart in his throat at the realization that there is simply no escaping him. Dante has him at his absolute mercy, and the knowledge of Vergil's desire for him to use against him. He reverts back to his human form and screw his eyes shut to wait for the inevitable.

"I'm sorry. If I had known you were gonna react like this I would have just kissed you instead." There's no dishonesty in Dante's words, his distorted voice surprisingly gentle as he sits up. His wings unfurl from around the , though he winces in pain with their movement, and his arms loosen around Vergil.

There is a faint odor of blood, his blood, and then it vanishes as he drops out of his Sin Trigger.

Vergil opens his eyes and carefully twists in the loose embrace Dante has him me to face him. They're almost nose to nose, with Vergil awkwardly half-laying on him, and Dante leans in to brush his lips against Vergil' kiss is soft and tentative, Dante's gaze earnest as he stares into Vergil's eyes. It takes Vergil a few seconds to respond, his hands clutching at the edges of Dante's jacket as he presses into the kiss hungrily. He doesn't have a clue as to what he's doing, his experience with such intimacies woefully lacking, but Dante doesn't seem to care at all.

After a minute Dante breaks off the kiss and tilts his head just enough for their foreheads to touch. "Just in case you need to hear me say it, Verge, I want you too." With that declaration he angles his mouth for Vergil's and shifts his arms up to loop them around his neck. Something wet and warm presses against Vergil's lips, and as he parts them he realizes that it is Dante / tongue, but there is something more. Rich and smokey sweet liquid fills his mouth without any warning.

Vergil knows this taste from a lifetime ago, and it is unmistakably Dante's blood. Swallowing it down with a moan, his hands tighten on Dante's jacket briefly and then snap up to frame his jaws. Vergil fervently takes control of the kiss, his tongue forcefully delving into Dante's mouth as he greedily searches out every last drop of that succulent substance. Dante yields to him with a stifled groan, a flicker of surprise in his gaze at the sudden shift in Vergil's demeanor followed by an intense satisfaction.

A sudden curiosity strikes Vergil and he presses the side of his tongue into the razor sharp point of one of Dante's canines. Dante's reaction to his blood is so different, so utterly docile as he swallows the fluid and whimpers softly into Vergil's mouth while his eyes close. Vergil breaks off the kiss once his tongue has healed and pull back to watch Dante intently.

"Oh fuck," Dante pants out, a dark pink dusting his cheeks and the bridge of his nose while he opens his eyes and stares back at Vergil. His scent spikes with desire and he tightens his arms around Vergil's neck as he shifts under his weight just enough to get a leg wrapped around Vergil's waist. "Vergil." The name comes out of his mouth with a faint whine and a roll of his hips against Vergil's.

Before Vergil can accommodate Dante, his senses prickle as he picks up the presence of more demons heading their way. He bites down a growl at the interruption and quickly wrap his arms around Dante before springing to his feet. Dante clings to him even after they're both standing, mouth twisting into an irritated scowl as he turns his head to look around, having picked up on the encroaching hordes as well. They won't find peace here, that much is clear, so Vergil wordlessly draws Yamato and slices through the fabric of reality with the intent of taking Dante someplace safe. His thoughts instinctively turn towards home as he creates the portal, and as soon as it's open he tugs Dante through it.


	2. Chapter 2

Dante clings to his brother as they both stumble out of the portal and into the near-pitch black darkness of a large, enclosed space. The air is stale here, but it's far better than the dumpster fire stench of the Underworld meaning that they must be back in the Human Realm. Dante peers around at the room they're in for a moment, his eyes adjusting enough to make out that it's a ballroom, then returns his attention to Vergil. Vergil's scowling as he does his own check on their surroundings, and for some reason he looks like he does when they had crossed swords at Temen-ni-gru. Dante doesn't want to think about that right now though, and presses up against his brother more firmly, his mouth going to Vergil's jawline.

Vergil gives a very slight twitch as Dante nips at his jaw, and then Yamato is just gone—willed away to wherever it is they keep their Devil Arms—so he can grasp Dante by his hips. Dante knows he shouldn't tease him, not after what had just happened only minutes ago, but Dante wants to push him past the edge. Vergil's shown that he can be aggressive with just a taste of Dante's blood, and oh how Dante wants more of that. It makes up for the fact that Vergil hasn't really done anything like this, excluding the one time he had apparently had sex and ended up fathering Nero.

Going from light nips to soft, chaste kisses, Dante works his way up Vergil's jaw to his ear. Vergil's fingers tighten on him to the point that Dante would bruise if he were just a human as Dante takes the lobe between his teeth and tugs on it gently. His brother stiffens with a groan and Dante inwardly grins at having found one of his more sensitive spots. Dante tucks the information away for later use and lets go of Vergil's earlobe to press his lips against the patch of skin just under his ear.

"Dante." His brother's voice is strained, and Dante knows he's trying to hold back, which isn't like him at all. Then again, Vergil's also shown that he does have his own insecurities and fears, and Dante really doesn't want to think about how things would have gone if he hadn't caught up to Vergil. Losing him _again_ would have destroyed him, and he knows it isn't because he's his brother. Dante really does want him, he always has. It's soul deep, this need to be with Vergil, and nothing else has ever been able to soothe it.

"Yes, Verge?" Dante hums out against Vergil's neck then carefully scrape his teeth over the skin. Vergil gives a low growl this time and lets go of a hip to grab Dante by his chin. Dante gives him a grin as Vergil forcefully tilts his face towards his, and gauges just how close Vergil is to losing control. The answer is _very close_ and a shiver of excitement runs through him.

Vergil's mouth presses against his in a kiss that Dante can only describe as hungry and he eagerly parts his lips at the feel of Vergil's tongue against them. Vergil's blood fills his mouth again, the flavor of it almost what he imagines electricity to be, and Dante shamelessly moans as he swallows it. His knees give out as a bit of Vergil's power surges through him, and the only things keeping him upright are his arms around Vergil's neck and the hand Vergil still has on his hip. Lust and desire pools in his groin and Dante **needs** Vergil in him as soon as possible.

There comes a loud crash from somewhere behind them and Dante wants to ignore it because he feels like he's going to go insane with this burning need, but the sooner they take care of _this_ interruption the sooner they can fuck. His legs don't seem to agree with him, however, and buckle under him as soon as he tries to pull away from his brother. Vergil keeps him from falling flat on his ass, both arms wrapping tightly around Dante's waist and pulling him to his chest.

Light spills into the ballroom from the double doors that have been thrown open, and Dante can just barely make out a person standing in the doorway. "Do not move from where you are, demons." The voice that calls out sounds vaguely familiar, but Vergil apparently recognizes it because he stiffens behind Dante. "You may yet escape with your lives if you can provide a satisfactory explanation as to why you are trespassing in **my** home."

The ballroom lights up and for several seconds Dante knows they're both blinded by the sudden brightness, leaving them at the mercy of the demon. Dante hates that they're at such a disadvantage, but the demon doesn't attack them, which is rare for everything he's experienced. He must be serious about them explaining how they had gotten here, and if he is then he might actually let them live.

"Sorry, wasn't aware that someone was home. We would've knocked but we didn't exactly use a door to get here." Vergil hisses at Dante through his teeth as Dante speaks, but he ignores him and leans further back into Vergil's grasp so he has to take all of his weight. Dante gives his eyes a quick rub, his sight finally adjusting to the lighting, then he arches a brow as he takes in the scowling face of a demon that looks a hell of a lot like their dear old dad. He is unimpressed and so is Dante. "Hey, Vergil, do you recall that bastard Mundus making a puppet that looked like dad?"

"That is no puppet, Dante." His brother's voice is oddly flat, his arms quivering around Dante slightly and Dante silently curses at himself for having brought up Mundus. Defeating the bastard once hadn't been enough, and if he does show his face again like he promised then Dante's going to make sure that he kills him for what he did to Vergil. "That **is** our father."

_Sparda's_ eyes narrow into a glare as he listens to them, demonic energy faintly crackling around him with his anger. "I do not know what game you are playing at, demons, but I am **not your father** and I am no puppet to _Mundus_. You have a lot of nerve breaking into my home using those forms and claiming the names of my sons." The demon is pissed and he takes a menacing step towards them as he brings out a sword that should be in his brother's possession right at this moment. _Now_ would be a really good time for Dante's legs to start working again.

"Interesting," his brother murmurs at the sight of what is clearly Yamato then shifts his grasp on Dante to pick him up and hold him like he's some sort of damsel. Vergil ignores the soft growl he gives in protest and summons his own Yamato, the sword appearing in front of them and hovering in a field of Vergil's demonic energy. "It would seem that in our haste to leave the Underworld we have inadvertently ended up in the past. Implausible as it sounds it is the only explanation that fits."

Sparda falters at this, and Dante has to admit that he's trying to wrap his head around the fact that they're in the past. It sounds crazy, but crazy is their bread and butter so it's only normal for them. "You are truly…" Their dad doesn't seem to know what to say, and to be honest Dante doesn't have a clue either. What Dante does know is that he would very much like to get back to what they were doing before the old man barged in on them. Not to say that he has a one track mind, but his blood is still burning something fierce and his brother still smells of arousal, so Dante _knows_ he's thinking about it too.

"Hi. I'm Dante, that's Vergil, and we're your kids from the future. Now, if you don't mind, we were very close to fucking before _you_ kicked the doors in." Dante shoots their old man a suggestive grin while Vergil gives a very good impression of someone choking. His brother's Yamato disappears and Dante almost worries that Vergil's going to drop him on his ass but his hold on Dante tightens.

"Have a bit of tact, Dante!" His brother wheezes out sharply, low enough that the old man doesn't seem to hear.

"Relax, bro. Demons don't care if we're fucking each other." Dante purposefully keeps his voice loud enough so that their dad can hear him as well, and he looks up at his brother with a smirk. There's a faint pink to his cheeks and he glowers at him.

"That is _not_-must you be so **vulgar**, little brother?" Ah. He's not bothered by their dad knowing about them, but that Dante's cursing in front of him. How…quaint. Is that the word? He could ask his brother, but that would give him the impression that Dante cares about all that fancy prose. That's Vergil's arena, not Dante's, and he really only like the fancy prose when it's coming from Vergil.

"While I certainly do not care about your decision to have _relations_ with each other I am curious as to why the two of you were in the Underworld that **I** sealed off access to." Of course their dad would want to know about that, and Dante can't help the irritated scowl that settles onto his face while he glares at him. Vergil, shockingly enough, gives a low growl that has the old man taking a step back in surprise. "Later, of course, once you've gotten cleaned up and have taken care of your _needs_. I take it that you know where the guest rooms are?"

"Yes." Vergil's voice is sharp enough that it almost puts Yamato's edge to shame, and he doesn't even wait for their dad to respond before he just takes off. Dante doesn't really remember the layout of the manor, but Vergil navigates it with ease at speeds that should honestly give them whiplash because they end up in front of a door in record timing. He fumbles with the handle for a few seconds instead of setting Dante down, but manages to get the door open.

They're barely inside the room before Dante twists in Vergil's grasp and pull himself up with an arm looped around his neck to latch his mouth onto Vergil's. It's enough to stop him in his tracks, his irises flashing a demonic red as his last bit of control shreds completely, and he returns the kiss desperately. Dante very quickly find himself back on his traitorous feet and pressed against the doorframe as his brother starts pushing his coat off of his shoulders. His legs threaten to give out again as he's forced to let go of Vergil, and Dante briefly wonders what in the hell is wrong with him because this is starting to become a _problem_.

His brother seems to be entirely unaware of Dante's issue, then again he's still pressing him into the doorframe as he slides Dante's coat off and occupying Dante's mouth with his. There's no blood this time as Vergil's tongue pries past his lips and engages Dante's. He _wants_ more, no, he **needs** more, so Dante quickly bites into the side of his own tongue, but Vergil's tongue gets caught as well and oh god…oh _fuck_. The **taste** is like a punch to the gut yet so indescribably _good_ that it makes Dante almost swoon. He can't even imagine what it's doing to Vergil if it's doing this to him. The answer to _that_ comes quickly enough.

His demonic energy crackles around him as if he's Triggering, only he _doesn't_, and Dante knows he hears the distinct sound of cloth shredding, cool air alighting on his chest as it's exposed, but he's too busy having his mouth devoured to even try and see what Vergil's done to his shirt. The touch of his fingertips on Dante's skin is electric, extraordinarily gentle caresses with the slightest feel of something sharp and deadly that drags over Dante's flesh in a feather-light sensation. His brother has fucking **claws** and Dante doesn't immediately think of how much it would hurt for him to prepare Dante. He's thinking of how goddamned _sexy_ it is and he's _salivating_ at the thought of Vergil digging them into his hips. They just need to get to **that** point.

Dante breaks off the kiss and presses his hands against Vergil's chest—not to push Vergil away—but to slide them under his coat and start taking it off of him. His brother growls at him and then just like that _all_ of _his_ clothes, even his boots and gloves, vanish. That is just **unfair**, but then why can't Dante just…magic his own clothes off too? He's not sure how Vergil did it because simply wanting them gone just doesn't work, and he's at risk of losing his jeans to Vergil's claws. The shirt he can live without, but he'll be damned if he loses his jeans when he has nothing else to wear if they get destroyed.

Dante bats Vergil's hands away as they reach for his jeans, receiving another growl while Vergil's energy crackles over his skin. Baring his teeth at his brother, Dante snarls in return and quickly undoes the buckle of his belt and the button of his jeans before Vergil can reach for them again. Dante has to toe off his boots to get the jeans off, all while trying to keep his damned balance as his legs are still working against him, and Vergil gives a much deeper growl, his lips curling back to reveal his teeth. Well fuck, he's definitely not happy at being denied access to Dante, so he doesn't even try to take his gloves off.

Dante's not sure what comes over him, but he gives a soft, wavering croon and cautiously reaches for Vergil. Vergil's watching him carefully with those bright red demonic eyes, and for a brief second there's a sliver of icy blue ringing his pupils. Dante croons again, his fingers lightly brushing against Vergil's jaw and there's an obvious shift in his demeanor as he leans into Dante's touch with a soft purr. It's all Dante needs to wrap his arms around Vergil's neck and pull himself against Vergil with a needy _whimper_.

Dante's aching and swollen cock drags across the front of Vergil's right thigh then rubs up against his brother's erection with the press of their bodies, and the simple contact is both heady and maddening. His brother makes a noise that sounds absolutely inhuman, not quite a growl and not quite a moan, then proceeds to lift Dante up by the backs of his thighs. The slide of skin on skin as Dante wraps his legs around Vergil's waist, Dante's weight settling against him, has Dante groaning deliriously and rocking against him for more friction. Vergil makes another noise, his hands tightening on Dante's ass and stifling his ability to move, while his energy crackles fiercely around them with the threat of a full Trigger. Dante tries not to imagine what it will be like, but Dante _wonders_ and his blood **sings** at the thought of his brother taking him in his Trigger state.

In a blink Dante find himself sinking into incredible softness with Vergil's weight bearing down on him for the briefest of seconds and then Vergil breaks free of his arms to pull away. Dante gives a desperate whine and starts to sit up, only for his brother to croon at him as he lifts Dante by his hips until only his shoulder blades are in contact with the bed and Vergil's thrown his legs over his shoulders. Something warm and wet swipes over the crack of Dante's ass and over his balls, and oh! _Oh god!_ A ragged moan leaves Dante as Vergil pulls his cheeks apart and runs his tongue firmly over the puckered hole there. It's so fucking filthy, so animal, and so very hot.

Dante's body spasms uncontrollably and he tries, he honestly tries, to press into Vergil's tongue for more. He's held in place by his hips, and he swears to god that his brother has enough sense of self that he gives an amused huff, the warm breath fanning over the _wet_ that is his spit and it goes cold. A sharp, piercing whine leaves Dante as he strains in another attempt, his fingers digging and twisting into the coverlet until there comes a sound of ripping fabric, yet still Vergil denies him movement. He gives Dante another firm swipe of his tongue then probes into him, just enough to turn Dante into a quivering, whining mess of burning, aching need.

Dante sobs as Vergil pulls away to lower Dante's hips, his legs still thrown over Vergil's shoulders but now with the backs of his knees slotted over them perfectly, and Vergil gives a soft croon to reassure him. Vergil's cock, hard and thick, presses into him slowly with only the faintest twinge of pain when there should be more, but Dante doesn't particularly care because Vergil's finally in him. There's a sense of being whole as Vergil fills him completely, hips perfectly flush against Dante's ass, and he knows Vergil feels it too as he pauses and peers at Dante, another flicker of icy blue within bright demonic red.

"Move, Vergil!" The moment is lost with Dante's throaty plea, and he gives a shallow roll of his hips, all that he can manage with his brother holding him in place, to goad him into action. Vergil pulls out almost entirely, agonizingly slow, then snaps his hips to thrust into Dante blindingly fast, and Dante's nearly folded in on himself as Vergil leans over him. Dante arches into him with a ragged cry, sharp little pricks of pain twisting into the absolute pleasure that rockets through him as his brother's claws dig into the skin of his hips while he starts up a stilted pace.

Vergil gives a breathy growl with each thrust into him, while Dante moans feebly and _tries_ to meet him, only for their position to keep him from doing so. Dante's frustration is starting to build, and he reaches up and grasps his brother by the back of his head to pull him more down towards him, while also lifting himself up enough so that they can kiss. It's awkward as hell, but Dante uses it to his advantage to bite into the side of his tongue and swipe his blood across Vergil's lips. Vergil goes still at the taste, fully pressed into Dante, and then with a primal roar he Triggers.

Dante's vision goes white as Vergil's demonic energy bathes him inside and out, and orgasm sweeps through him like a current of electricity, his semen painting his own stomach and chin. He's significantly fuller now, nearly to the point of pain, and keenly aware of how absolutely still Vergil is save for the minute quivering of his muscles. Blood singing in Dante's veins for more, more, more, he give/ a stifled jerk of his hips and mewls into Vergil's mouth.

Vergil snaps out of his stillness with a growl, his claws digging further into Dante's hips as he starts up a much more brutal pace. It feels like he's going to snap Dante in two as he fucks him down into the bedding with his full strength, dragging sharp whimpers and piercing moans out of Dante that he swallows up greedily. Spots dance in Dante's vision as his brother's cock scrapes against a particular point inside of him, stealing him breath away and setting his nerves ablaze with pleasure he's never felt before now. It's enough to get Dante hard all over again, agonizingly so, and he squirms to try and find the perfect angle.

Dante has no leverage to move like this, and he doesn't have the strength to overpower Vergil's Sin Trigger without going into his _that_ is a gamble with how completely pinned he is, but he has to do _something_. Letting go of his brother and dropping fully back onto the bedding, a different opportunity comes with Dante's legs slipping off of his shoulders. Vergil leans up slightly, just enough for Dante to dislodge his legs completely and twist where he lays. A deep growl sounds at the upset Dante has caused in his rhythm, but Dante ignores it and continues to twist further in the grasp Vergil has on his hips, forcing him to pull out completely.

The blood from where his claws are buried is all Dante needs to loosen his hold, as much as it hurts having them tear through his skin, and flip over. Dante scrambles onto his hands and knees, presenting Vergil with his ass, and croons at him over his shoulder. Vergil's already surging up onto his knees, not needing any extra incentive to continue, his hands returning to Dante's abused hips. Dante hisses softly as Vergil enters him again, this time none-too-gently, and arch his back as he adjusts to the new position. It's already so much _better_, Vergil's thrusts going deeper than before, and oh!

Dante's arms give out, his face pressing into the ruined coverlet as Vergil hits that sweet spot dead on, and Dante moans like a whore. It takes some effort to turn his head enough so that he doesn't suffocate, but he eagerly presses back to meet Vergil's thrusts, his fingers digging into the bedding once more. There must be something in the way Dante has reacted because Vergil hits that spot again and again, pulling sharp and ragged moans from him with ease. It quickly becomes _too_ much, and everything in Dante locks up tight as he comes again with a hoarse cry. More of Vergil's demonic energy crashes through him, his brother having gone still once more with his cock fully buried in him. Dante's acutely aware of the wet warmth of his brother's seed as it pulses into him, and a delighted shudder runs through him at the sheer intimacy of the act.

They stay like this for maybe a minute before Vergil finally pulls out and Dante can sense his shift back to his human form. Dante gracelessly falls onto his side, trying to miss the mess of blood and semen, as bone-deep weariness settles over him. His brother makes a soft noise in his throat, a little hitch of breath, and then his hands are tracing over Dante. "Mmm… No more, Verge, I'm tired." Dante's voice slurs just a little, and he's so worn out that he can't even move to get cleaned up.

"What have I **done** to you, Dante?" There's panic in Vergil's voice, his scent twisting with guilt and shame, as his touch lingers on Dante's hips. "I **hurt** _you_."

"Hey now, I **wanted** this, Vergil, every fucking second of it, and I'd do it all again because I **loved** it." There's no fight in Dante's voice, he simply doesn't have the energy because all he wants now is to curl up with his brother—mate, a deeper part of him croons—and go to sleep. "If you have enough energy to fuss over me then the least you could do is get the both of us cleaned up, 'cause I can't **move**." Dante expects Vergil to maybe argue with him some more, for them to go in circles on this, but Vergil gives a soft sigh, smelling of reluctant acceptance, and the mattress shifts as he gets up.

Tired as Dante is, he listens intently as Vergil pads away to the bathroom only to return a moment later. The mattress dips by him with Vergil's weight and a damp warmth soothingly traces over his exposed hip. His brother is exceedingly gentle as he wipes away the evidence of their—hm, what's a better word?—frenzied mating, taking extra care as he goes over Dante's ass. Dante can't help the low moan he gives, nor the way his body subtly shifts to eagerly press into the touch of the cloth as Vergil cleans his entrance. He _can't_ possibly want more sex, yet here he is, like some damned slut needing a fix.

"I thought you were tired, _little brother_." Vergil's voice is like a silken caress, low pitched and with a note of _something_ Dante's too tired to place. Only he's not really tired anymore, strength suffusing his limbs as his blood starts singing again. "That you can't **move**." Vergil's voice dips lower, almost a purr, and Dante whimpers as his cock stirs once more. "We are half-demons, so you should know that it would take more than a single **fuck** for us to be satisfied, _baby brother_." A word so crude and dirty should not sound polished and elegant, yet Vergil somehow manages it; and then there's the fact that he's taking words so innocent and wholesome and making them sound absolutely filthy. It's a goddamn gift and Dante's _almost_ jealous.

Vergil pulls the cloth away and Dante takes that as his cue to roll over onto his back, his gaze automatically seeking Vergil's form. There's tenderness in his eyes, hidden underneath the amusement and desire, and though Dante knows Vergil'll probably never say the words, he can see them written quite clearly in Vergil's expression. Dante's heart swells with the knowledge, and he breaks out into a grin that gets him a faint smile in return from his brother. "No sense in cleaning up if we're just gonna get dirtier."


	3. Like A Silver Bullet Piercing Through

I watch my brother as he sleeps, curled against my side with an arm draped across my abdomen and his head resting on my chest. He is a picture of serenity, and now that I have the time—that my lust and desires for my twin are slaked—I study his face. There is no doubt that his youth, and likewise my own, has been restored to him, reverting no further than when I had raised Temen-ni-gru. Was this a side effect of acquiring our Sin Triggers? It can't have been from just being in the Underworld. The messiness of how time worked there could only affect _so_ much…and maybe, just maybe that is at least the answer to how we ended up here.

I had been careless and, yes, distracted, but my mishap had turned out to be in our favor. We are home, our parents alive and-

"We shouldn't be down here, Dante."

-there is a set of our much younger selves as well. Curious.

"They smell like us, Verge."

Father must have forbidden them from coming and disturbing us, but Dante—be it the one creeping down the hall with his own twin or the one pressed to my side—has always had a nose for trouble. To be fair, I had led—invited—my brother into some of those troubles.

"Mmm, smells like nestlings," my brother purrs out and lifts his head to look up at me. Pale, mercurial blue is replaced by a glowing crimson, his gaze piercing even though he's just woken up. The corners of his mouth twitch upwards with a sultry smile and he languidly stretches, arching into my side suggestively. He is without compunction, my lovely baby brother, and last night should have been telling enough. Honestly.

"That's because a pair of curious _nestlings_ are currently creeping up the hall when they shouldn't be, baby brother, so behave yourself." It's as if a switch is thrown and my brother sits up, no longer interested in seducing me—which I wouldn't have minded at all were it not for curious little nestlings—and instead very interested in our younger selves. Is he even aware that it is us? "Do put something on before you go, Dante," I casually remark as he moves to leave the bed, making him pause and look back to me, a mischievous glint in his eyes, their color back to normal.

Dante yanks the sheet, the only thing that had survived our night of fucking and love making, off of me with a grin and scrambles off of the bed with it in his grasp. I barely refrain from rolling my eyes as he wraps himself in the sheet that thoroughly smells of sex and blood, and swaggers out the door we had left ajar. Brat.

I can't very well let my _darling_ brother go off unattended, even if it is to satiate his curiosity with the nestlings, and climb out of the bed to follow after him. While it would have been easier to summon my clothes we are in considerable need of bathing and Dante has left his jeans behind. Those will do just fine for now, since they need washing as well, and being identical in our human forms has its benefits. I pull on his socks and boots too for good measure then stroll out into the hallway to find him crouched down in front of our younger selves.

They can't be any younger than seven, judging by their appearance and their scent, and they're both making faces at the scent coming off of my twin. "Little brother, surely even you are aware of how impolite it is to greet someone while you're dressed in nothing more than a bedsheet and reeking as you are?" Their eyes flick towards me as I approach, mouths going agape, while my brother glances at me over his shoulder.

"Those are mine, Vergil." I give a faint tilt of my head and smirk at my brother's tone, relishing in the way that his gaze sharpens. Behind him our younger selves look at each other and then back at each of us, no doubt working out precisely who we are. They would have figured it out sooner or later, as it is unlikely that we would be able to return to our own time and would have to stay here.

"Then perhaps you should have put these on instead of wearing the bedsheet, Dante." My twin scowls, all petulance and irritation, then looks away with a huff. I slide my gaze to the nestlings, while Dante pouts, and arch a brow. "Tell me, nestlings, are you supposed to be down here?" They both visibly chafe at the way I address them, but they at least have the sense to look guilty.

"No, they should not." Father's voice has them flinching as he strides down the hall, his gaze cool as they both turn and bolt past him. "Your impatience has consequences, boys," he calls after them and then his expression smoothes out as he regards us for a moment. "Fresh clothes and bedding will be provided for you. Breakfast is in thirty minutes."

"Sounds like we've got enough time for a quickie, Verge." My twin's tone is bordering on cheeky as he stands up, completely ignoring father's presence, and gives me a grin. This is payback for the clothes, I'm certain of it, but I will not give him the reaction he's seeking. I have no lingering qualms regarding the fact that I desire to be with him, as his opinion is the only one that matters to me.

"Just one, _baby brother_? If we manage our time properly we should be able to squeeze in another _quickie_ or two." Dante looks properly shocked and interested at the same time while father has chosen to quietly take his leave. "Tick tock, _Dante_," I purr out and turn to head back into the bedroom, smirking as my brother trips over himself to hurry after me. There's no harm in indulging him.

"Who are you and what have you done with my brother?" I pause to give him an incredulous look at that question because surely I misheard him. "You just… In front of dad…" He waves a hand, the bedsheet slipping from where he had wrapped it, then gesticulates in the direction our father had taken off.

"Words, Dante, use them." I keep my tone impassive and watch as the bedsheet slips a little further, devouring the sight of my brother's pale flesh as it's exposed. Just a little more and it will come undone entirely.

"Are you…ogling me?" And thus the bedsheet comes off completely, though it seems to be entirely intentional. Knowing that he's watching me, I slowly and purposefully rake my gaze over his figure before meeting his eyes with a smirk. My brother swallows and flushes a pale pink, arousal pervading his scent.

"_Tick_ **tock**."

* * *

We _really_ should have kept it to two rounds because three was pushing it, and the fourth made us late. Five minutes late. Dante is wholly unconcerned with our tardiness, in fact he is oozing smugness, and saunters into the dining room ahead of me. At least he's clean and fully dressed, even if he did take the navy blue shirt and left me with the dark red one. He stops just inside the doorway, shock filtering into his scent, and I don't even have to look to know why.

"Mom…" Dante breathes the word out, and for a second he smells of overwhelming grief while he quivers almost imperceptibly. The need I feel to console him is profound and I have to constrain myself from following through with doing so, given how recently we had put our past behind us and especially when it concerns our mother.

As if she had heard him, mother glances at us for a second and starts to continue on with whatever conversation she was having with father only to falter and truly look at us. "Oh my god…" Her fork clatters as it hits the porcelain plate from a set I recall her cherishing while she gapes at us. She looks to the nestlings seated at the other end of the table—part of father's punishment—and then back to us again. "Oh my god!"

"You're late." Father regards us coolly, myself in particular, and I return his stare impassively. "I shall test your skills after breakfast." There's no room for argument in his tone, and I had already expected as much to be the consequence for our delayed arrival.

"Very well, father, but should I win the nestlings will be let off of their punishment as well." They look up from their plates, surprised to even be included, towards me and then to father. "Should I lose, however, I believe that the rule was to double the consequences for all involved." I receive identical looks of horror and terror from the nestlings while my twin, having recovered from his moment, snorts and side-eyes me.

"C'mon, Verge, you gotta up the game a bit if you're gonna go all out. Quadruple the punishment _if_ dad beats you." Dante gives a show of his teeth with his grin, flecks of glowing crimson dancing in mercurial blue for a few seconds, while father narrows his gaze at the implication that he will lose. If he wishes to up the stakes then I shall let him, but not without him offering something in return.

"And what are _you_ going to put up as incentive for me to win, little brother?" I casually make my way over to the table and sit opposite of mother, knowing it's the spot that Dante would have preferred. He gapes after me, temporarily frozen with disbelief, and then does the unthinkable. He calmly walks over and plops onto my lap sideways with his back towards our father.

Father is glaring a hole into the back of my brother's head for his impertinence. The nestlings look like they wish for the floor to open up and swallow them, having been roped into the possibility of further, much harsher punishment that has now increased with my twin's display. Mother, however, is thoroughly amused, a knowing smile curling her lips.

Dante, impetuous brat that he is, cranes his neck to look at father, irises flashing that glowing crimson, and holds his gaze with a devil-may-care smirk. "Anything you want, bro." He boldly loops an arm around the back of my neck, making it very clear that he has no intention of moving. Father's glare shifts towards me as if expecting me to reign my brother in, and normally I would have, but it is as if my senses have taken leave of me.

"_Anything_, Dante?" I stare father down as I support my twin with my arm at the small of his back, hand settling on his hip. "Whatever more could I want when the subject of my desires is literally within my grasp?" Father looks fit to explode over our undesirable conduct only for mother to place a hand over his and she gives it a light squeeze. I can't even read the look that she shares with him, a knowing smile still on her lips, but it calms him considerably.

My twin turns his focus onto me, eyes still a glowing crimson and his lips pressed into a thoughtful frown. For a second he looks beyond me, his expression shifting to something distant and dreamy, and when he refocuses on me it is with a dazzling smile. As my brother opens his mouth to give a response to my question there comes an earth-shattering crash from several rooms over. It comes from the ballroom, in fact, and for a few seconds nobody moves. Dante inclines his head a little to sniff at the air a couple of times and then he's very suddenly standing beside me, tugging at my wrist insistently for me to get up. "Our nestling is here!"

Confused as I am by that statement I acquiesce to my brother's urging and am immediately dragged towards the hallway as soon as I'm on my feet. I barely have time to consider what Dante had meant as he continues to pull me towards the ballroom, and the only person I can think of is **my** son, but Nero couldn't have possibly found a way to follow us. Then there's the fact that my twin had referred to him as _our nestling_, something that is wholly impossible given that we're both distinctly male…yet I can't even recall the face of Nero's mother.

My memories of that time are disturbingly blank, the gap much larger than I expect. A huge chunk is missing, spanning almost an entire year, but this lapse can't be from having split myself and reforming. I want to study it closer, but introspection can wait because my brother has dragged me all the way to the ballroom.

Sitting in the middle of said ballroom is a lumbering beast of a van looking no worse for wear, while standing in front of it, in his own Trigger form, is Nero. Dante promptly releases my wrist and streaks towards him in a blur to tackle him to the ground. The boy sidesteps the attempt neatly, spectral wings moving to lash out at what he had perceived to be an attack. Without even thinking I teleport between Nero and my brother, and catch both of the wings bare-handed with a low, snarling growl. "Do not attack _your mother_, nestling."

It takes a moment for me to register my own words while Nero just stares at me, mouth agape as he tries to process my statement. His gaze flicks from me to Dante and then back, disbelief clearly written on his face, and then he looks between us again. Meanwhile pain, white hot and crippling, blossoms in the back of my head at the base of my skull. I let go of the clawed wings and take a staggering step backwards as I grasp at my head with a hiss, my vision blurring. Arms wrap around me from behind, keeping me from dropping, and my twin gives a low whine that sounds like it's coming from a far off distance. There's a rushing sound starting to drown everything out and then-


	4. Watch Me Cry All My Tears

Vergil goes limp in my arms, his weight nearly doubled, and I stagger slightly as I try to keep him from falling over. It takes me a few seconds to ease him to the floor, and whatever has caused him to pass out is still hurting him, his face twisted in agony. I give a soft, whimpering cry as I gently cradle his head on my lap, desperately wishing that I could take away his pain. It does nothing to make my mate stir, not even a twitch, and he almost looks dead with how still he is. I know he isn't, or at least part of me knows that he isn't, but he looks it.

A hand lands heavily on my shoulder, making me flinch and thankfully keeping my thoughts from entering a downward spiral as I look up to find Nero crouched beside me in his human form. There's traces of confusion in his gaze, but it's outweighed by concern. "I _really_ don't know what's going on, but I'm here. What do you need?" I wish I knew the answer to his question, that I knew what was causing this. I don't, however, and give a shake of my head as tears prick at my eyes.

Biting into my lower lip, I look back down at my brother and gently slide my fingers through his hair. Still nothing except the shallow rise and fall of his chest. I give another whimper, my vision blurring as my tears leave hot trails down my cheeks and drip onto Vergil's face. Noise fades into the background and voices blur together in a low hum as I sit there and cry, feeling so very lost.

"…_Magic…both of them…deteriorating…fast…"_

"_Yamato…sever…"_

"…_early…Dante…pregnant…"_

"_Vergil would…kill us…Dante and the baby…"_

"_Yamato…only choice…can't wait…"_

I'm drawn out of my stupor by a hand reaching for my mate and I smack it away with a deep, snarling growl. Turning my gaze towards the offender I bare my teeth, growl still rumbling in my throat, and materialize my summoned swords. They swirl in the air behind me for a second and then vanish when I realize that it's Nero—_our nestling, don't hurt_—reaching for him.

"We need father's Yamato to sever the magic on the both of you. We don't think the other one is strong enough." Nero's voice is low and soft as he speaks, and he has his hands raised with the palms exposed to show that he isn't a threat. "Can you or should I pull Yamato out?"

I look back down at Vergil's face and wipe away the splatters left behind by my tears—boy, he'd be pissed to find out that I had cried all over him—until every trace of them is gone. "I will." Lifting my hand away from his face, I stare at him for a few seconds longer then reach down and press my hand over his heart. It doesn't even take a thought, Yamato just appears as if she had been waiting for me to call on her and she drifts over to Nero. "What do I need to do?"

"Uh…well. We need to stab both of you at the same time, something about being twins and how the spell is linked, but…" Nero goes quiet and blushes a little, discomfort and confusion twisting his scent. "They think that you might be pregnant," he finally whispers after a moment, a smidgen of disbelief in his voice. "Are you really my mom?"

I frown slightly, _knowing_ that it should be possible, but there's a problem. "I haven't gone into heat for as long as I can remember, kiddo. Maybe it's the spell, maybe I'm just broken, but it's not possible for me anymore." It hurts to think about that because I _do _want more nestlings, would absolutely love to have more, but the reality is that I can't. "As for you, Nero, part of me knows that you're my nestling, that I carried you, but I can't remember when it happened. It's all a blank to me."

"Did you-"

"We both wanted you, Nero. I might not remember it, but I _know_ we were so excited. We were over the moon…" The words catch in my throat as more tears sting my eyes, my fingers loosely curling into the fabric of Vergil's shirt. Underneath my palm I can feel his heartbeat fluttering, a small comfort considering how my mate still looks quite dead. I choke back a sob and pull my hand away, lifting it to rub away the tears that aren't doing me any good, yet they seem to just keep coming.

"Here." Nero wills Yamato away and reaches down to start sitting Vergil up. He's gentle, his face set with an expression of grim determination. There's a traitorous glistening tear clinging to one of his lashes, and I can see that he's trying to not cry.

"I know this is going to be a lot to ask of you, but I think you need to be the one to sever to spell on us." He looks startled at my suggestion and the tear finally falls, followed by another. "It's just a feeling I have…"

"Mr. Dante is right, Nero, it _has_ to be you," Kyrie, gods bless the girl, cuts in right as Nero opens his mouth to argue with me. I shift my gaze to where her voice sounded from and blink at the sight of her. She's _very_ pregnant, and a careful sniff has me blinking again. "We're expecting twins," she explains softly, a gentle smile curving her lips.

"How long has it been since we went to the Underworld?" We've only been here for not even a full day, but it seems like a lot more time has passed for them. Speaking of the Underworld, I narrow my eyes as I shift my gaze back to Nero. "You travelled through the Underworld with my **pregnant** daughter-in-law?!" He blanches and looks away from me guiltily.

"Trish and Lady came with us." Oh, like _that_ makes it any better. "She wouldn't take no for an answer."

"We'll just have to make sure that Mr. Vergil doesn't find out." I almost want to laugh at how absurd it is to try and hide something from my brother, because he _will_ know.

"And you would hide this from me how?" Goddamn him, he's awake now. Nero jerks away from my mate with a yelp, landing on his ass for his efforts, while Vergil sits up straighter and looks at me over his shoulder. There's still pain in his expression and he looks like he's about to pass out again, but there's also steely determination glinting in his eyes. "Crying doesn't suit you, Dante."

"It's your fault, dumbass." His gaze softens slightly, sorrow and guilt flickering across his face for a second. "I should kick your ass for making me cry _again_."

"You'll have to wait a while if you want to do that." There's faint amusement in his tone and he slowly moves to stand up. I scowl at him, not sure what he means by _that_, and ignore the hand he offers to me once he's back on his feet. Stubborn ass that he is, he still helps me up. "Using Yamato to sever the spell on us should be safe enough, Nero. She will do what needs to be done based on your will and your intent."

Nero scrambles to his feet and looks between us with with a frown, his scent spiking with uncertainty. "If you're sure…" Well, that sounds reassuring.

"I am." Vergil's tone is clipped as he speaks those two words, and there's something in his demeanor as he looks at Nero. "We will talk afterwards." My mate turns his gaze back towards me and closes the gap between us, looking more weary as he does so. "Dante…" His voice is softer now, as if what he has to say is meant for my ears only, and he lifts a hand to cup my cheek. "You're not broken." The words are breathed against my mouth, so tender, so warm and so full of affection.

The realization of what he means hits me as Nero plunges Yamato through both of us.

* * *

I'm pulled out of the comfort of sleep by my mate pressing a chaste kiss to my jaw and a gentle caress to my heavily swollen belly. His lips move up to my ear in a trail of kisses that almost tickles, something he _knows_ I hate, and purrs when I lazily try to swat him away. "Stop it, Verge. I'm trying to sleep." I crack open an eye and scowl up at him, but I can't resist that smile he's giving me. It turns me into a damn puddle every single time.

"You're so beautiful," Vergil whispers reverently then leans in and kisses me on the lips. Knowing what's coming, I eagerly open my mouth to him and I swallow down his blood with a soft moan, his energy tingling as it mixes and settles into mine. He breaks the kiss off after a moment, too soon for my own liking if I'm honest, and nuzzles our noses together.

"You _have_ to say that," I grumble softly, but it's completely lacking any bite, and roll onto my back. My mate tsk's softly at me and climbs into the bed next to me, messing up the carefully crafted nest I've built out of every blanket and pillow we own. A few of his shirts are in the jumble, and I'll be adding more when I fix it later on, which doesn't seem to bother him in the slightest. Sappy jerk's doing it on purpose.

"You _are_ beautiful, Dante." He places both hands on my belly now and leans down to press a kiss there, right on cue for our nestling to start kicking. My mate gives a happy purr and turns his face to rest his cheek against the spot, his eyes closing halfway. "So strong."

"Just like his father." Vergil's eyes go wide at my statement and he sits up slightly, gaze shifting from my face to my belly. "Yes, we're having a boy," I huff out with a soft laugh as he looks back to me. The way he lights up is so fucking adorable, his reaction alone is enough to make me forgive him of anything.

"Our son…" He smiles again, fingers carefully tracing over where our nestling is still kicking. "I'm so glad that I found you, baby brother, that you gave me a chance." His voice wavers slightly and I can just barely pick up the scent of salt from the tears welling in his eyes.

"I'm glad too, Verge, even though I wasn't expecting _this_ at all. I swear, all you had to do was just _look_ at me and boom, I'm pregnant." I grin at the frown he gives me, followed by the roll of his eyes as he stops himself from informing me on how sex and demonic physiology works. We've had this discussion before when I had first found myself puking my lunch into the toilet of our cozy little flat. "Fortuna is a nice place, and while it's not home I want to stay here for a while."

"I haven't found anyone to fix up the manor yet, but when I do it _will_ take a while for it to be ready, so we can stay here for as long as you like." Oh, he's a sneaky bastard! Hiding that from me when I've wanted to go home all this time! "Don't give me that look, Dante. I couldn't just take off and leave you here alone while you're carrying our nestling, and it's too dangerous for you to travel. You _need_ my blood regularly, and it's a lot safer here than in Red Grave."

"Not safe enough, sons of Sparda." We both freeze up at the unfamiliar female voice that comes from the far end of the bedroom and then the air starts to crackle with my mate's demonic energy. It fizzles out immediately instead of him Triggering and then he is ripped off of the bed. "Such disgusting creatures, bedding your own flesh and blood." She's dressed in bright red, her face hidden by a simple brown cloth hood, and her heels click on the hardwood floor as she approaches the bed.

I am absolutely helpless in my state, and my mate is no better as he tries to fight off the bonds—is that hair?—restraining him. The woman scoffs and detours to pull Rebellion off of the wall, turning it over to examine it. "What do you want?" I try to keep the fear out of my voice, my gaze flicking from her to Vergil, my mate growling as more _hair_ secures him where he's hanging in the air.

"We are looking for someone to serve as a catalyst, but you two are…sullied. We need someone pure, like that child you're carrying." My heart jumps up in my throat and I immediately start to move so I can get away, but I find myself quickly restrained by the same hair my mate is struggling against. Vergil gives a thunderous snarl, the air crackling as he tries to Trigger again, and in a blink the woman drives Rebellion through his heart. "And here I was thinking of leaving you and your little whore alive, demon filth."

"I will hunt you down and **kill** you," Vergil wheezes out in spite of having my sword run through him in what would normally be a fatal blow. "To the ends of the earth and to the depths of hell, if I must." It takes some effort on his part, but he manages to summon Yamato.

"We can't have that, now can we?" The woman effortlessly snatches Yamato from his grasp and with a sharp motion of her hand my mate suddenly goes slack in his bonds. "Since you can't be easily killed, and it would be quite a waste, then I'll just have to make sure that you don't remember any of _this_. Better yet…you can kill each other, or try to anyways." She turns to me with Yamato raised, makes another sharp motion with her hand and-


	5. This Is Now And When

I'm the first to awaken, it seems, and we've been moved back to the guest room we had claimed as ours. There's a faint, lingering trace of Nero's scent and even fainter is father's, and though I know why it's here in our room a displeased growl rumbles in my throat. Father _knows_ how territorial demons can get, especially when they're mated.

A soft whimper rises up from my right and I quickly roll onto my side to find my twin, my mate, curled up into a ball, his face drawn with fear in his sleep. The way he's curled in on himself is reactionary, I realize, so not sleep, but locked into the restored memories the witch had stolen from us. A cold anger claws through me, hatred so sharp and bitter, and the urge to hunt down this vile creature that had seen fit to tear us apart, to addle our minds and set us against each other, worse yet to steal our nestling from us, threatens to consume me. I _will_ find her, and when I do I will _rip_ her apart and bathe in her blood before scattering her viscera to the four corners of the earth.

Dante is my most immediate concern, however, as he _is_ in the initial stages of heat and will need me to help soothe the all-consuming hunger that comes with it. As for his desires to have more nestlings…the problem is entirely on my end. I am no longer capable of fulfilling that particular want of his between what the witch had done and Mundus' corruption of my being on top of the time I was _dead_. I was irreversibly damaged and neither the Qliphoth fruit nor my ascension to Sin Trigger could fix it.

Hopefully my brother has not misunderstood my rather vague statements, and it is so easy to see how the wrong conclusion could be reached. Now I am forced to shatter his hope with the painful truth of my imperfect state, something that I should have innately known, that should have been indelible. He will be devastated. He will be furious.

A gentle rap on our bedroom door draws my attention away from my ruminations, and I am not sure if the distraction is a blessing or a curse. With a fleeting glance at Dante's form I ease off of the bed and approach the door at a measured pace, knowing without even having to check the scent that it is our son. There is a distinct apprehension to his posture when I open the door, a storm of varying emotions in his gaze as he regards me while his mouth is set into a hard line. I know he bears Yamato, but for the moment I will not ask for her back. Having her in my possession will only serve as a temptation to go hunt down the witch.

"Come in." The invitation is exceedingly rare, given Dante's current state, but neither of us will be leaving the room until his heat runs its course. "Just inside the doorway, no further than that, and do not shut the door for your own safety." I purposefully place myself between Nero and the bed, ignoring the way his eyes sharpen with a glare at how he receives my command.

"Still an asshole, I see," he bites out, all insolence and naïveté. It would seem that father has left all of the explanations for me to impart, as it should be, but I am not in the mood for dealing with incivility at the moment.

"My **mate** is in the beginning stages of heat, boy, and regardless of you being our nestling you _will_ be affected by it. Demons do not care about blood relations when it comes to their bed partners so long as their needs are met, but when it comes to Dante, he is mine and mine alone." His complexion goes ashen with horror and he takes a couple of steps back so that he's now out in the hallway, as if distancing himself will help him in some way. "It would be unwise to stray down to this end of the manor for the next week, possibly longer."

"So then, uh, Dante can get pregnant?" Nero's question is and is not unexpected. I had thought he would ask something else, like perhaps why he would even be affected by my twin's heat. It would seem that he rather not discuss that, which is fine with me. "How is that even possible?"

"Demons themselves are, for the lack of better terminology, gender fluid. We half-demons cannot change our sex on a whim, at least not completely and not without going into our Trigger state to some degree. Our inherited physiology is what is capable of making the necessary internal changes for procreation, and these changes have to be maintained by a regular supply of the dominant's blood and energy." It shouldn't need to be said that staying in the Trigger state, no matter how partial, is physically draining on the pregnant party, and that the consequences of failing to maintain it are potentially fatal. "In regards to Dante, yes, _he_ is still capable of getting pregnant."

Nero frowns through the entirety of my compressed explanation, but it is clear that he is paying attention. Even to what I am deliberately leaving unsaid. "You can't-"

"The consequences of being corrupted by Mundus and dying at my brother's hands while under _his_ control. It is permanent." Recognition flits over Nero's face at the mention of the former ruler of the Underworld, but it is followed by a look that I read as pity. Part of me wants to bristle at the display, which I tamp down without a second thought and instead give a subtle inclination of my head. "If there is nothing else then you should-" A low snarl cuts off my dismissal to Nero, the boy flinching at the suddenness of it. "-take your leave."

Nero gives a jerk of his head and bolts down the hallway, leaving me to close the door. I barely have the time to throw the lock and twist aside as Dante's fist sails past the tip of my nose. The impact is deafening as it strikes the door instead, making it shake in its frame, and there is a slight tremulousness in the lines of his form. "Were you ever going to tell me?" My brother's voice is tight with obvious anger, and underneath of it is a note of anguish. He bows his head, the silken locks of his moon pale hair shifting to hide his eyes, and a much more pronounced tremble runs through his body.

"Dante…" A simple yes is likely to tip him into unadulterated rage, but it also seems like he is not going to calmly wait for an explanation. I need him to _see_ me, all of the jagged edges that couldn't be made anew, every shred of desperation and fear seared into my being since we were hewn apart against our wills, so that there will be no more misunderstandings. "Please **look** at _me_." He gives a start at the absolute rawness in my voice and lifts his head in response to my plea, eyes wide and wet with tears. For one long, breathless moment he just stares and then fumbles for the light switch.

The light seems to make everything harsher, as if it can reveal just how deep the shadows that stain me go. Dante is not without his own marks, however, and it pains me to see the ones that had been carved into him by my own hands. He is as unguarded as I am in this moment, our souls laid bare and speaking for us in a way that words simply cannot communicate.

My brother's anger ebbs away, and with it the tension in his body, to be wholly replaced by grief and guilt as he slumps against the door. "You didn't know…" The words come out in a breathless whisper and Dante tips his head back, his eyes closing for a few seconds. A couple of tears streak down his cheeks as he sucks in a ragged breath and then he exhales harshly. "That fucking witch…" He grimaces in remembrance and when he opens his eyes to look at me again they are disturbingly flat. "She took _everything_ from us, Vergil. Our memories, our life together, our _son_… She turned us against each other and I… Goddamnit, I _killed_ you."

I can see how desperately he wants to shatter and crumble, and maybe he would have so long ago, but he holds himself together, even if it is only just barely. This time I give in to the urge to console him, closing the gap between us to wrap my arms around his waist and pull him away from the door. "I_ will _make that vile creature pay for all that she did to us, little brother," I whisper and press a chaste kiss to his lips. "I will visit upon her every single pain that you have endured—no matter how small or trivial it might be—before I grant her the death she rightly deserves for daring to harm you."

"To the ends of the earth and to the depths of hell," Dante mutters softly and turns his head just enough so that he can avert his gaze. "When are you leaving?"

I know why he's asking _that_ particular question, and his fear of getting left behind again is completely justifiable with everything we've been through, but… "_We_ will hunt the witch down in due time, little brother, and only after we've gotten you through your heat." His breath hitches slightly as he jerks his gaze back towards mine, guilt suffusing his scent for his immediate assumption that I would abandon him once more. "You are my heart and my soul, Dante, and I shall never leave you again unless it is what you want of me."

"Why would _I_ ever… Fucking hell, Vergil! You can't lead with something super romantic like that and in the same goddamn breath say that you'll stay unless I want you gone! I love you, dumbass, and just because we can't have more nestlings doesn't mean I want you to leave!" For a moment Dante looks like he wants to punch me, but he lifts his arms and wraps them around my neck instead, his lips lightly grazing my own. "I need _you_ like I need air." He closes the scant distance between our mouths for a firm, demanding kiss, his body pressing flush against mine.

I return the kiss fervently, my hands splaying across the small of his back as if I could pull him any closer, and draw his lower lip between my teeth. His scent thickens with the spice of arousal and something more, something _sweeter_ that stirs the most base and visceral instincts in my blood. I break off the kiss and pin him to the door, my hands moving to his hips to grasp them as I dip my head down and bury my nose into the curve of my brother's neck. Closing my eyes, I breathe in the heady, honeyed musk of my twin and give a low purr while my fingers tighten on his hips. "You smell _so_ good, baby brother," I whisper against the steady throbbing of my brother's pulse point and I savor the way that he trembles.

"You sure you're not smelling the soap you used on me about a half-dozen times in the shower this morning?" Dante tilts his chin up, granting me access to the span of his throat, and withdraws his arms from around my neck. My brother traces his hands down my chest to the hem of my shirt and grasps it tightly. "Will you let me undress you this time?"

"Quite sure, _Dante_." I close my mouth over that spot where the blood flow is strongest, taking care to not puncture the fragile flesh with my teeth, and suck hard. The bruise won't be lasting, but it draws a rather alluring moan from my brother and makes his hold on my shirt loosen. "If that is your desire then you should be quick about it, baby brother," I answer as I draw back to examine the already fading mark, wishing that for once we could leave something lasting on each other.

Dante doesn't wait for further invitation and starts tugging my shirt upwards, ignoring the fact that he could have simply torn it off. If this exiguous slice of normalcy is what he craves then he shall have it, along with anything else that I can offer up to him. I let go of his hips long enough for him to relieve me of the garment, and lean back in to lick a stripe up the side of his throat that has him going still. The silk gives a whispering rustle as it drops from his hands and to the ground by our feet where it pools. "C'mon, Verge, that's not fair."

"So affected already?" I lave a new strip up the opposite side of Dante's throat and this time he gives a hard shudder, his breath catching in a sharp hitch. "Your blood must be boiling, baby brother, how thoughtless of me," I croon against his jaw and breathe in his honeyed fragrance once more. "It must be so _unbearable_ for you, Dante, with all of those clothes sticking to your skin."

"Goddamnit, Vergil, you're making it worse!" He rasps out breathlessly and begins pulling his own shirt off. My brother gives a faint, reedy whine as I catch his wrists, and tries to scowl at me as I draw back just enough to examine him. A delicate flush suffuses his skin, from his face all the way down his neck where it disappears under the collar of the navy blue shirt. The fabric has darkened considerably, sweat drenching it and making it cling to every contour of my twin's chest. "It's so hot, Verge, please…"

"I know just what you need, baby brother," I purr out and gently tug his hands away from the hem of his shirt to remove it myself. He sags against the door once I have divested him of the garment, and reaches for his slacks, no doubt intending to remove them. He gives a weak growl that quickly transitions to a whine as I yet again halt him, my fingers closing tightly around his wrists. "Did you know, Dante, that I had wanted what I had thought would be our very first time together to be taken slowly? I wanted to show you just how much you _meant_ to me yet you were very impatient, weren't you? You kept feeding me your blood once you figured out much it affected me and made me lose control of myself. You, however, had the most _interesting_ reaction to my blood."

"Oh no, no, no, no, Verge, please _don't_-" I silence his plea with a firm kiss, his lips easily parting with barely a touch of my tongue, and let go of his wrists. It takes only a slight nudge for him to move them aside and I deftly undo the button as I explore the entirety of my brother's mouth, taking care to not nick myself on the sharp tips of his canines. His relief is palpable when I break off the kiss, and threaded through it is confusion. "You're not going to give me your blood?" He pants out, brows furrowing as he scrutinizes me.

"Did you want me to give it to you, Dante?" I turn my attention to the slacks as I start easing them off of his hips, a faint smirk curling my lips. My brother gives a soft hiss as his blood-engorged length springs free from the constraints of the slacks that I've worked down his thighs, and I deliberately stop to watch his turgid cock bob and sway. "Because you seemed quite _adamant_ that I not give you my blood." I flick my gaze back up to meet his just in time to catch him licking his lips, hunger gleaming in the pale depths of his eyes.

"I…" Dante falters, looking truly conflicted as he wrestles over whether he wants my blood or not. I know that he craves it, and it is the same for me despite the fact that his blood will make me lose control over myself. His reluctance towards it seems to stem from how it affects him, as I can recall that he seemed to have some sort of trouble with his legs. It begs further study, but that is entirely dependent upon my brother's cooperation, and I could be using this time for more gratifying endeavors.

While my twin contemplates his dilemma I dip my head down and press an open-mouthed kiss over the topmost part of his sternum. It draws a surprised gasp from him, which I ignore in favor of trailing wet kisses down his chest, my hands sliding up to his hips. He realizes my intention just before I sink down onto my knees, his breath catching in his throat while he stares down at me. I meet his gaze again and hold it as I lean in and languidly swipe my tongue over the head of his cock, collecting the bead of precum oozing from the slit. Faintly bitter with an edge of brackishness and something more that makes up my brother's flavor that cannot be put into words.

Dante makes an inarticulate noise, hips threatening to buck as he seeks more but are held fast by my hands, while his head tips back to press against the door. "Fuck!" He breathes out, peering down at me with raw eagerness and ravenous hunger from over the slant of his cheekbones. His eyes shut tight in an involuntary reflex as I lave along the side of his erection, all the way to the root to press my nose into the trimmed silvery-white hairs. I draw his piquant musk deep into my lungs and turn my face just enough to curl my tongue around the underside of his shaft. "You're doing this on purpose," my brother grits out around a moan, his hands scrabbling against the dark surface of the door for purchase.

"Performing fellatio on you? I should hope so, or is there another purpose for me to kneel before you that I should know about, Dante?" I let go of a hip and grasp his cock by the head, giving it a ginger squeeze as I slide my fingers partway down the satiny length to pull the foreskin back. Dante gives a soft moan and thrusts into my hand, his effort stopped short with a tightening of my hand on his other hip. The weak growl that starts to build in his throat becomes a strangled moan as I firmly run my tongue along the underside of his throbbing length, my gaze intently affixed on my brother's face. "The most sublime act is to set another before you."


	6. Instinct Oh So Devilish

My blood is _burning_, so much worse than it had been last night, and I want to be so very mad at Vergil because what I want right now—what I need—is for him to throw me down and fuck me hard and fast, but oh god, his tongue feels like heaven even if it does nothing to soothe the building inferno trapped in my body. Then there's that line from William Blake's Proverbs of Hell that he spouted with his lips pressed to my cock, his eyes gleaming as he watches me. He _knows_ exactly what he's doing, the bastard, and he doesn't even have to give me his blood when this damnable heat is accomplishing so much more. I literally cannot muster the strength to fight back anymore, and I want to hate it, like I had wanted to selfishly curse my brother—my powerful and perfect brother—for something that isn't his fault, but I just can't. I won't. "The thankful receiver bears a plentiful harvest."

Vergil isn't even remotely shocked by my own recitation from Blake's Proverbs of Hell, instead he is amused and for one fleeting second I glimpse a tenderly warm happiness that lights up his eyes and makes my heart flutter. "Is that so, baby brother?" My brother slowly skirts his tongue around the head of my cock, the pressure just on the edge of teasing, drawing a whimper from me. "Then allow me to express my gratitude for such a gift." The words are whispered with such reverence, such gravity, that the symbolism of this—the answer to why else he would kneel before me—is not lost on me.

I close my eyes, my head tilting back, and moan as Vergil takes me into his mouth, that sinfully wet and deliciously warm mouth, in an achingly slow slide. There's no pause, no hesitation, whatsoever as he engulfs the entirety of my length, just a pleasantly tightening squeeze as it goes past where my brother's gag reflex should be. "Oh fuck!" I rock my hips forward, and this time he doesn't even try to stop me. My brother has actually let go of my hips completely and is pulling the slacks I'm still wearing down to my knees, but I'm not really paying any mind to what else he's doing because he _swallows_ with me still in his throat. "Oh god!" My hands find their way to my brother's head, fingers weaving into his hair, and I open my eyes to look back down at him.

Vergil is _still_ watching me, drinking in every little reaction I'm giving, and the intensity of his gaze has my cock twitching. I know he felt it—how could he not?—but he gives no indication that he did and starts to draw back, his tongue rolling up against the underside of my shaft which makes me give a breathy moan. He makes a noise, almost a hum, as I tighten the grip I have on his deceptively soft hair and he pushes my slacks down the rest of the way, even going so far as to lift my feet to remove them completely. With barely any pressure at all he nudges my legs further apart and leans back, my cock coming out of his mouth with an obscenely wet pop. "Bend your knees." There's only a slight rasp to his voice and I find myself complying to his demand without a thought.

"Like this?" I slide down the door a few inches, putting a slight bend in my knees, and lower my lids halfway as my mouth curves into a grin. My brother gives me an approving look and takes my length back in hand, fingers firmly sliding along my spit-coated shaft. "You didn't let me finish undressing you," I state plainly only to receive a faint smirk in return before he wraps his lips around the head of my cock again and sucks. "Damnit, Verge!" I hiss out and give a shallow thrust into his mouth that he eagerly leans into.

There is no slow slide like before, my brother instead swallowing me all the way to the hilt in one quick motion that punches the air out of my lungs from the intensity of it. My fingers tighten in his hair again, and as he starts to draw back I give chase, drawing a soft noise from Vergil. His eyes glint with that same amusement and just beneath it is a deeply ravenous hunger. The scent of his blood fills the air and for a second I'm thinking that I've hurt him somehow, but then he presses two slicked up fingers against my asshole, making me still immediately.

"Ngh, I'm not gonna last if you keep doing that, Verge," I pant out, keenly aware of the almost teasing pressure of his fingers, and I'm torn between wanting to push down onto them and thrusting into the wonderful tightness of my brother's throat. My decision becomes infinitely easier because Vergil presses both fingers into me, as far as they will go, and scissors them. The moan that tears out of me is raw and I cant my hips to grind down on my brother's fingers without a single care as to how desperate I must seem.

My brother proceeds to slowly fuck me with his blood-slicked fingers, each thrust just touching on the edges of rough, while still working my cock with his mouth and throat. I let go of his hair to press my palms flat against the door behind me, cracking a grin at him as I hold his gaze and shamelessly rock down onto his fingers. His irises flicker to that bright, demonic red for a heartbeat and then he adds a third finger, curling all of them together. Pleasure, sharp and hot, dances along my nerves and with it a telltale tightening in my groin.

"Aah, Verge, I'm gonna-" My attempt to warn Vergil is cut off by a piercing cry as he purposely curls his fingers again, sending more sparks of pleasure racing through me, but it's just barely not enough. He's well aware of it, his eyes flashing as he starts to withdraw his fingers. A needy whine builds in my throat, but it quickly turns into a scream as he sharply thrusts back into me and curls his fingers one final time. My orgasm crashes through me like a wave as my body goes taut and Vergil stills his fingers within me, but what's more is that he's drinking every last drop of my seed. Express his gratitude indeed.

My brother withdraws his fingers first, leaving me feeling particularly empty and craving much more, then leans back and releases my still half-hard cock from his mouth with a purr. He gives my trembling form an approving look as he brings his fingers to his mouth and _sucks_ them clean. "You taste even better than you smell, baby brother." A smirk curves his lips and then he offers me the same hand he had just finished fucking me with, digits slick with his saliva.

I take his offered hand without hesitation and he guides me down onto the floor in a controlled sprawl that ends up with me having my face pressed to the floor. He lightly presses down on my back, right between my shoulder blades, for a few seconds then skims his hands down to my hips. I scramble to draw my knees up under myself and raise my hips for him on my own, and I'm rewarded with a sharp inhale from my brother. He follows the curve of my ass, his touch gentle, and it takes every shred of control I have to keep absolutely still.

"Look at you, Dante, so beautiful and patient while I've been so very _selfish_," Vergil drawls out as he moves to kneel behind me, the fabric of his slacks giving a whispering rustle as he undoes them and pushes them down. A very slight tremble of anticipation runs through me, my blood stirring as the inferno inside of it stokes higher than before, and I flex my fingers slightly, nails scratching against the hardwood floor. Something warm and wet dribbles onto my skin, and as it starts to trail down the cleft of my ass I smell it, my brother's blood. "Allow me to make up for my lack of consideration, baby brother."

In one smooth motion Vergil swipes his blood-slicked thumbs down along my ass to spread me open and spears into me with a groan. Giving a sharp, wordless cry I arch my spine and push against the floor for momentum as I rock back to meet his thrust. He grasps me by my hips, nails digging into my skin, and grinds into me with a breathy growl. My cock gives a twitch, coming back to full hardness in a matter of seconds, and I shift on my knees just enough to widen the gap between them a little more. "Ngh, no more slow shit, Vergil, I need you to fuck me," I pant out.

"As you wish, Dante." He starts to pull out of me, just to halfway, then gives a sharp snap of his hips with a deeper sounding growl, setting up the fast and rough pace that I've been craving. His grip on me tightens for a heartbeat, but then he releases a hip to lean over me and he tangles his fingers into my hair. A soft gasp leaves me as he yanks my head up and back by my hair, the pain just on the edge of exquisite. "Just like this, right?"

"Oh fuck yes." I flatten my palms against the floor, pushing myself up so that I'm more equally on my hands and knees, and arch my back again. Vergil's fingers tighten in my hair, and he yanks me up off of my hands, forcing me into a kneeling position, leaning slightly forward instead of being pulled flush against him. He holds me like that, squeezing my hip with another deep growl, and thrusts into me harder than before. My muscles convulse and I give a low, needy whine as I try to rock back into him, wanting _more_.

An almost inhuman sound leaves my brother and he tugs sharply on my hair, finally drawing me flush against him. He lets go of my hip, wrapping his arm around me, and traces his lips over the shell of my right ear. No words are offered, none are needed anymore, and his breath fans over my neck as his mouth moves lower to press wet kisses against my flesh until he reaches the point where my neck and shoulder meet. He bites down into my skin and moans as my blood fills his mouth, his pace faltering slightly while his energy starts to crackle around us.

My own surges up in response, the air starting to sizzle, and then the unthinkable happens. Our energies starts to resonate and mix together, coalescing into something nearly tangible. It's like a maelstrom of fire and lightning that consumes me, overwhelmingly so as I go into my Sin Trigger with a roar. Vergil follows closely behind with a muffled growl, teeth still buried in my neck, and slows his pace even further to a deep, rolling grind. The hand that had been grasping my hair drops down, arm circling around me so that he's fully embracing me, and he slowly eases his teeth out from my skin with a harsh exhale.

There's a pause, like he wants to say something, but the moment passes and he presses a kiss to the back of my neck as his hands trail back to my hips. I give a slight shiver at the press of his claws, a feathery, distorted moan leaving me as I lean forward onto my hands again and rock back into him. Dazzling pricks of pain send my wings fluttering, but it's the sudden hard thrust from Vergil that has them _flopping_ open almost fully and hanging down to the floor. He growls, almost snarls, and picks his pace back up while digging his claws deeper into me.

The precipice of another orgasm is fast approaching, my own claws digging into the floorboards while my wings give a subtle quiver and my muscles convulse again. It is stronger and tighter than before, enough to make my brother inhale sharply, a loud bang sounding as his tail lashes out and hits the door. His pace doesn't falter, instead it increases with almost a sort of desperation to it that excites my blood and has my wings _moving_ restlessly. A sudden urge to latch them onto something rises up, but I'm not giving the desire to do so any mind because Vergil hits _that_ spot and everything goes white.

* * *

I come back into awareness slowly, feeling quite relaxed and considerably comfortable, in my brother's arms. He is essentially wrapped around me, nose buried in my hair at the nape of my neck, his breathing slow and steady with sleep. It is a deep enough sleep that I am able to pry myself from his grasp without waking him, and I turn to observe my brother on what is a rare occasion. A faint smile curls his lips, face drawn into a soft expression that accentuates his youthful appearance, and I can't help the painful twist my heart gives knowing that we have missed out on so much.

Not wanting to disturb Vergil's rest I quietly slip off of the bed and turn around, pausing as I take in the state of our room. Gouges mar not only the floors and the walls but the ceiling too, and there's splatters of blood and, yeah, semen everywhere. _That_ is going to be fun cleaning up, never mind fixing the actual damage, and knowing Vergil, he will insist that we do it all ourselves. I put it out of my mind for the time being as I make my way over to the bathroom, intent on getting myself cleaned up before even considering leaving the room. Wouldn't want my brother to have a fit over _that_ too.

The bathroom is unsurprisingly in pristine condition, the marble tile cool under my feet as I go straight for the bathtub and turn on the hot water. I let it run for a couple of minutes, sitting on the lip of the tub as I watch for the curls of steam that indicates that the water is hot enough before I fill the tub. While it fills I look over the available bath salts and various scented things made available, wrinkling my nose at each of them in turn.

"You're better off sticking to unscented products, little brother," Vergil half-murmurs as he steps up behind me where I'm still seated on the edge of the tub, arms draping over my shoulders. A glance up at him reveals that he looks as tired as he sounds, but I doubt he'd be keen on going back to bed. "May I join you?"

"It'll be a tight fit, but sure," I answer, leaning back into him slightly, and give him a grin. "You've been in tighter places."

"Incorrigible brat," he huffs at me with a slight roll of his eyes, though the corners of his mouth twitch up with his amusement. "Take care or I just might find myself in such a place very soon, little brother."

"Is that a promise, Verge?" I ask with a cheeky grin and receive a drawn out sigh as my response. "Oh, c'mon, you can't be _that_ worn out."

"Why am I not surprised that you would still want sex immediately after coming out of your heat." My brother gives me a particularly exhausted look before he lets go of me and moves to step into the tub. He doesn't even flinch at the high temperature of the water, just sinks down into it and settles against the end of the tub then holds out a hand to me.

I take his hand then swing my legs over the lip of the tub into the scalding hot water and slide down to fit myself between his legs. He wraps his arms around me as I lean against him, and sure enough we both just barely manage to fit in the tub. "It's been forever since we did something like this," I murmur and let my eyes close halfway while the tub fills for another minute before I lazily turn the faucet off with my foot.

"And now we have forever to do things like this," Vergil whispers as he brushes his lips against the right side of my neck. I don't expect the pleasant tingle that comes from the slight touch, as though the spot is more sensitive when I know I shouldn't be having this kind of reaction at all. My brother pauses, noticing the difference himself, and I can picture the way his mouth twists with a frown as he examines my neck. "I left a mark," he breathes out after a second, sounding surprised and happy.

"As in a claiming mark?" I reach up to lightly prod the spot in question and sure enough there is a very slight protrusion where he had bitten me. Giddiness pings through me as I map every centimeter of the scar with my fingers and memorize the feel of it. "I'll have to show this off."

"I…" My brother falters, arms tightening around me, then presses his face into my hair and exhales softly. "I would like that." His voice comes out in a choked whisper while a tremor runs through him that has me twisting around in his grasp. He's not crying, though it's a pretty damn close thing with how wet his eyes look, instead he is _smiling._


	7. Hello Love, Welcome Home

Dante stares at me for what feels like an eternity, eyes wide and full of wonder, and then his lips curl into a soft smile. "I know I said it before but I feel like I can't say it enough. I love you, Vergil," he breathes out and loops an arm around my neck to draw himself closer, his lips brushing over my own.

I ignore the tears that wet his lashes and press my mouth against his more firmly, my hands splaying across the small of his back. He sighs happily into the kiss then parts his lips and licks along the seam of my mouth, his arm tightening around my neck. Parting my lips I let him explore my mouth as he sees fit while I slide my hands to his hips and give them a gentle squeeze.

He breaks off the kiss after spending several minutes languidly mapping the inside of my mouth, leaving only a hairsbreadth of space between us. "We should get cleaned up," he murmurs, not sounding very enthusiastic about having to do so.

"We should," I echo with a slight upturn to the edges of my mouth as I rub small circles on his hips with my thumbs. "But I want to hold my beloved a little longer." His eyes widen again, breath coming out in a short little gasp, and then tears finally streak down his cheeks. The dam on his emotions seems to have broken, a choked sob leaving him as he dips his head down and tucks it beneath my chin while his body quivers against mine. I close my eyes and press a cheek against the top of his head as I envelop him with my arms again, holding him tightly to me as if I could stave off his grief.

Dante's tears leave hot trails down my throat—their scent sharply bitter—that cool as they reach the dip between my clavicles. He gives another sob, a strong tremor wracking his body, and withdraws his arm from around my neck to curl up in my embrace. There is little I can do save for holding him and senselessly rub at the small of his back all while feeling absolutely helpless. It is _frustrating_ to be unable to do more for him and for several seconds I'm too angry to realize that I'm also crying.

"What a fine mess we are," I murmur and crack my eyes open, my anger draining away. There is no trace of that shining happiness from a few minutes ago—how I wish that we could go back to it—instead I am left with a sense of grief that echoes Dante's. Tamping down on the edges of that grief I lift my head up and raise a hand to curl my fingers under my brother's chin. It takes no effort to lift his face away from my neck, and I gently wipe away the tracks left by his tears with my thumb. "Nothing shall tear us apart ever again, Dante," I declare with a chaste press of my lips to his. "You are mine and I am yours, now and forever."

"You're crying," he murmurs with a note of disbelief and reaches up to frame my face, sweeping his thumbs over my cheeks to wipe away my tears. His brows knit together, lips pressing into a frown, and he gives me a hard stare. "Crying doesn't suit you." It is ironic that he would use my own words against me, but he means them as much as I had when I had uttered the exact same phrase to him nearly a week ago.

"And it still does not suit you, Dante." The corners of his mouth finally twitch upwards, his smile a tearful one, and he gives a shaky exhale as he attempts to steel himself. "Now let's get cleaned up."

* * *

It's quiet throughout the house, far too quiet when it's just past noon and there should be quite a few people around. We make our way to the kitchen, largely because Dante insists that we should eat something, and find father making a cup of tea. My twin makes a beeline for the fridge without even acknowledging him, which earns me a narrowing of father's eyes. It would seem that I am to be held responsible for his behavior.

"You spoil him too much." Father's voice rings out across the kitchen, Dante giving a pause in his perusal of the fridge's contents to look towards him and then to me.

"I do not see how that is any of your concern," I state coldly then make my way over to the fridge to make sure that my twin will pick out something relatively healthy.

"Regardless of you two being from the future you are still** my nestlings**, so it is very much my concern." For a few seconds the air crackles with father's energy, a warning and nothing more. "I don't know what you've been through, but-"

"We've been through a literal hell since we were eight years old," Dante snaps out and turns away from the fridge empty handed. "We were attacked in the safety of our nest, my nestling stolen from my womb, my memories sealed and my mate turned against me through that fucking witch's magic. Worse still was Mundus, one of the problems you left behind, corrupting my mate and forcing me to kill him, and all of this was possible because you fucked off somewhere and never came back. You left and mom was killed, so take your concern and shove it up you ass."

Father reins in his energy at the end of Dante's rant, looking absolutely stunned, while Dante forcefully shuts the fridge then storms past me and out of the kitchen. He starts to open his mouth only to shut it with a stricken expression, hurt flashing through his eyes.

"What you're feeling right now, it cannot even begin to compare to a fraction of what we have suffered, what we are still suffering." I turn my attention away from father and pull the fridge open, scanning the shelves for something that will be suitable for Dante to eat. A brown paper wrapped parcel catches my eye and I pluck it up off the bottom shelf without a second thought. "Dante wishes for more nestlings and I have been so _damaged_ that I am no longer capable of fulfilling that one simple desire, one that I too share. So, yes, I will spoil Dante as I see fit, starting with this."

I take my leave, following Dante's scent and increasingly agitated energy back out to the foyer where he's standing in front of the family portrait. He doesn't even glance my way as I approach, instead he folds his arms over his chest and scowls up at the painting. "I'm not a child or some sort of servant to be ordered around," he grits out and the air around him starts to grow warmer.

"You are my mate but that does not mean that you are beneath me in any way, Dante." I step up behind him and wrap my arms around him, fitting them just under his, while my chin drops to rest on his left shoulder. "You are mine to protect and care for, yes, but you are also my equal. The queen to my king."

Dante gives a soft snort as he leans back into my embrace. "Your queen, huh?"

"Yes, and I've brought my queen something to eat," I whisper lowly and raise up the wrapped parcel for him to take. "Once I have Yamato back I'll go out on a proper hunt and bring you something fresher."

Dante takes the parcel and starts tearing open the paper only to stop halfway in revealing the aged beef tenderloin inside. "Wait, you didn't get Yamato back from Nero?"

"I've been trying to wrap my head around that all week myself." Nero's voice echoes from across the foyer behind us. I raise my chin from Dante's shoulder to glance back at our son and find him walking towards us with near noiseless steps. "Along with everything else."

"Yeah?" Dante quivers in my arms, the paper wrapping the meat crinkling as he tightens his grasp on it, while fear taints his scent.

"Well, yeah. I just spent an entire year believing you were my uncle when it turns out that you're actually my mom," Nero says as he reaches our side. He looks us both over, a sort of nervousness to him, then gives the meat Dante's holding a brief glance. "It was a hell of a surprise but I'm not bothered by it."

Dante relaxes immediately, happiness replacing the fear, and finishes tearing the paper off of the tenderloin. "That's good, I-wait, what do you mean by a year?! We were only in the Underworld for a couple of months before we ended up here! We got here the night before you did!"

"Time runs differently in the Underworld, so what was a couple of months for us could have been longer for those in the human realm." I suspect that there is much more to the situation than what I can posit, given that Nero had recognized Mundus' name when he shouldn't even know who Mundus is. Dante thankfully accepts my explanation as is then bites into the chunk of beef without any hesitation. Nero blanches at the sight and quickly tears his gaze away from us to focus on the floor. "Why don't you tell us what happened after we left to take care of the Qliphoth?"

It's the distraction Nero needs, his gaze darting up to meet mine before it drops back to the floor. "Well, about four months after you left demons started breaching into the human realm saying that the both of you had vanished without a trace. They had thought that with you two gone they could run rampant or something, and then there was this one that had called himself Mundus. He appeared a couple months after the breaches started, talking about how there could only be one King of Hell and that it would never be a Sparda. He talked big but it didn't take me long to kill him."

Dante stiffens slightly at the mention of Mundus and then starts to shake. At first I mistaken it for anger, but my brother surprises me by laughing instead, full-throated and almost hysterical sounding. Nero looks taken aback for a few seconds, like he doesn't know what to make of his mother laughing, but then there's a flicker of irritation in his eyes that comes right as Dante pulls himself together enough to speak. "Oh god, that's just… Mundus said he'd be back and I-I told him to give my regards to my son! I wasn't even thinking when I said it! It just came out and, oh fuck, that's hilarious."

Nero goes blank at Dante's statement, clearly thrown for a loop by it when he had probably been expecting something different, something worth getting angry over. He has quite a hair-trigger temper, something he clearly inherited from Dante, and it seems to have mellowed somewhat. "Glad you find it so funny." And there is the sullenness he also inherited from Dante with the same exact expression to match it.

"Damn right I do, kiddo." Dante tears another bite out of the tenderloin, making Nero blanch and look away again. "Something wrong?" My twin asks around a mouthful of raw meat and with a grin, making our son take on a greenish tinge.

"Do you have to eat that raw?" Nero asks queasily, his very human upbringing made obvious with how close he looks to be to vomiting.

I almost consider telling him that he would have grown up eating raw meat had he not been taken from us but I decide to keep silent, if only because neither of them need the painful reminder. "You would probably not care for the answer to that, Nero."

"Yeah," he mutters in agreement, gaze still averted. "I, uh, should probably give Yamato back." He takes a moment to compose himself, managing to look slightly less green, then brings Yamato out and offers her to me hilt first.

I left go of Dante to take her back and freeze as soon as my hand closes around her white-laced wrapped hilt. She is _imperfect_, just as I am, and suddenly it makes sense. "Where is the rest of Yamato?" Nero gives me a look of confusion as he lets go of her and then glances at Dante in spite of his unease with the raw meat. "She is not whole."

"Whatcha mean she's not whole? _I've_ held her and she felt fine to me." Dante gives me an affronted look and reaches out to brush the back of his hand against Yamato. As soon as his skin comes into contact with her sheath he snatches his hand back as if he has been burned. "You colossal fucking idiot! You're not supposed to put your goddamn soul in your weapon and leave it there!"

"Uh, I think I'm gonna go," Nero says quietly as he backs away from us, clearly wanting no part of the conversation anymore.

Dante ignores his retreat completely in favor of glaring at me, irises flashing to a vibrantly glowing crimson. "Do you even know how dangerous it is? You're at risk of **dying**! Again! Qliphoth fruit be damned!" His energy rises sharply, the air around us heating up as if to reflect his anger, and his skin glows with the threat of him going into his Sin Trigger. "We need to go find those shards right **now**, Vergil."

He is right, of course, so very right. It is stupidly dangerous, the Qliphoth fruit only being a stopgap for keeping me together as I am with my soul being incomplete. "Then we shall leave right away."


	8. The Past Can't Hold Us Down

I can't believe him! That fucking idiot! How? _How_ could he have done something so-so stupid and reckless? He had to have known the consequences! He-fuck. Fuck. Of course he wouldn't have. Not when his memories—our memories—had been tampered with at the time. It's a seriously shitty situation that just keeps getting worse, whatever shreds of happiness we've acquired becoming tainted. I can only hope that Vergil can pinpoint the way back to our own time, that we can find the remaining shards of Yamato in time, because I won't be able to handle losing him again.

Vergil stands in the middle of the ballroom, eyes closed as he searches, and I watch from where I'm leaning against the Devil May Cry van. It is a delicate process that requires exacting precision, or so he had said when I had started to needle him for taking too long several minutes ago. My worries about him being unable to find the way back to our time abate when he finally does move, drawing Yamato and making two swift strokes through the air. "We must hurry," he says quietly, tiredly, like it had taken a lot out of him to open the portal.

I push away from the van and am at his side in an instant, a newer worry pulsing through my mind. "Verge?" He gives me a sidelong glance, Yamato snicking back into her sheath, then steps into the portal that's formed. I follow him with a low curse under my breath then glare at him once I'm out on the other side of the portal. "What the fuck, Vergil?! Don't just take off without me!"

"Were you not the one insisting we leave right away?" Maybe I had been mistaken. Vergil seems fine now that I get a better look at him. His lips are pressed together as he looks around, taking in our surroundings that are most definitely not that of the Underworld. His portal seems to have taken us directly to Devil May Cry, which looks like it's been abandoned for some time, a thick layer of dust coating every surface. "This is…your shop?"

There is a slight hesitation in his question, and the realization that he's never stepped foot in my shop as himself hits me. He might remember it from the time he had spent split in two, as V, but there's no telling how reliable those memories might be. "Yeah, this is Devil May Cry." Maybe not in all of her glory but she's still a remarkable sight to behold.

"Hn." He gives the dusty lobby another glance, disdain evident in his scowl. "It shall suit our needs for the time being."

"Hopefully the world's still intact and we can maybe get the power and water turned back on." Which would take money that neither of us have here. I grimace as I recall that unfortunate fact.

"If the world hasn't fallen to ruin then we should still have access to father's money." Oh, right. Cuz we had access to it before all of the mess that brought us to where we currently are. I'm kinda miffed that I had forgotten about the accounts, letting them just sit there gathering dust while I was barely able to make ends meet. "After all is said and done we will need to make ourselves a new home, one that will be safe enough for us to raise our nestlings."

"What did you just say?" I must have misheard him. He wouldn't be so cruel as to bring up the subject of nestlings when he knows that we can't… Surely he's not suggesting…

"Once we have reclaimed the Yamato fragments holding my soul we will need to make ourselves a new home that will be safe enough for us to raise our nestlings in." Vergil turns and regards me, lips curved into a faint smile. "There is a fragment close by if I am not mistaken."

He says it so casually, and as hard as I stare at him I can't find any trace of maliciousness. Only sincerity. "So what you're saying-"

"Is there a problem with your hearing, Dante?" He arches a brow at me, his tone slightly exasperated. "Because I am not going to repeat myself again."

"No, I just… Please just say it one more time." I know what I heard. I do. It just sounds so much better coming from his mouth. "Please, Vergil."

His expression softens, if only by a little, and then he gives an airy sigh. "When we are done we will need to make ourselves a new home that is safe enough for us to raise our nestlings in." He is indulging me and for that I'm grateful. I can see it in the gentle curl of his lips, the warmth in his gaze. It makes my heart flutter, my love for him deepening further.

"As nice as that will be, Verge, I kinda care more about keeping you alive. If I had to pick…" I trail off, turning away as I hug my arms to my chest. In a blink he's there behind me, arms winding around my waist as he presses a chaste kiss to the nape of my neck. "I'd choose you every single time."

"I know, beloved," he whispers into my neck, his arms tightening around me briefly. "But there is no need for you to choose, and I certainly would love to have more nestlings with you." His hands slide over my abdomen and press against it tenderly while he nuzzles me.

I want to savor this moment, this sweet tenderness from my mate, but we're wasting time. Until we have that last fragment of Yamato, those bits of his soul, in our grasp none of it will matter. "We should get going, Verge." He had said that a fragment was close by and if I recall correctly… "We've gotta raise that damn tower again, don't we?"

"It would make reaching the fragment easier, considering it's just on the other side." How appropriate, that it would be just on the other side where my mate had fallen into the Underworld, had fallen into Mundus' control. As if sensing the shift in my mood Vergil presses a kiss to my neck then turns me around in his grasp to face him. "We will be together this time, Dante." And there will be no Mundus to greet us. He doesn't say it, doesn't need to. He kisses me instead, softly, chastely, letting his lips linger on mine.

"You can be sweet on me later, Vergil." I do return the kiss, briefly, then pull back to regard him more seriously. "What do we need to do to raise Temen-ni-gru again?"

* * *

Not much of anything, it turns out. The broken tower rises, a black monolith against the blood-red sky of a world that is unfortunately beyond any measure of redemption. Mundus' forces had ravaged the human realm completely, the only remaining life belonging to that of the demons that freely move between this world and the Underworld. They are aimless without their ruler, squabbling amongst themselves as they try to determine who would be in power among them. Some turn their attention to us while most seem keen on avoiding us.

"Please tell me we can just fly up to the top of the tower and go get the fragment." I rather not have to traverse the whole of Temen-ni-gru again, even with Vergil at my side. There's no telling what might lay in wait inside of the tower and we really don't have time to deal with it all. Nor do we have time for the puzzles that had littered Temen-ni-gru each step of the way.

"There is nothing stopping us from doing so." Vergil tips his head up to gaze at the top of the tower nestled high up in the clouds that have started to form. "The portal is opening on its own."

I'm not sure if that's a good thing but then there's nothing good left in this world. Summoning my sword I make the transition into my Sin Trigger and sense Vergil doing the same beside me. We both rocket upwards, a blaze of red and blue trailing behind us, until we break through the cloud cover. The portal stretches open above the top of the tower and demons spill out of it like rain. It kinda brings back memories of that time.

"Be careful on your way in, Dante," Vergil calls out to me and I almost want to roll my eyes. I know he's looking out for me, that he can't help it, but he's the one that needs to heed his own advice. "Don't give me that look."

"I'm not giving you a _look_, Verge. Just move your ass." This time I do roll my eyes, right before we both take off for the portal. None of the demons coming out of it pay us any mind, in fact they try to avoid us as well. The ones on the other side, however, seem keen on dying. They attack us without any sort of preamble and fall to our combined blades, both physical and spectral.

"It would seem that the stronger demons have remained on this side," Vergil muses at my side, his wingtips just brushing against my own. "Likely to try and assume control here." Which doesn't mean much of anything anymore.

"They're just gonna get in our way." _And delay us_, I think but don't voice, Vergil's gaze shifting to me for a brief second. "Where's that Yamato shard at?"

"Past the fall." There is a certain tightness to my brother's voice as he answers me, a tremulousness that I recognize. "Down where I-"

"Then let's go and get it," I interrupt and go ahead of him. He follows after a beat then pulls ahead of me with a few hard flaps of his wings, intent on leading the way. I suppress a grin and match his pace, coming alongside him as we navigate the twists and turns to the fall.

"Need I remind you to tread with caution?" No, he doesn't. Pedantic and overbearing older brother that he is. "We don't know what's ahead of us, Dante."

"Demons and more demons?" He doesn't find my answer, which really isn't much of one when it's a question, amusing. That's to be expected. "We'll be fine, Verge. _I_ will be fine, so stop your-" I'm cut off by a large hand, larger than either myself or Vergil, appears out of practically nowhere and tries to swipe at me. I narrowly dodge, barrel rolling out of the way, then soar higher up to look for the demon it belongs to.

"You were saying, Dante?" There's an undeniable _I-told-you-so_ hanging in the air between us as he rises up to hover alongside me.

"That you are right and we should be careful," I mutter as I continue looking for where such a large demon could be hiding.


	9. That Promise Is Engraved In My Memory

Yamato's fragment has moved—closer to us—which is something I had not anticipated. It would seem that the sudden here and there attacks are connected to the fragment, meaning that the demon behind them has found it and has learned how to use it. A remarkable feat for one who isn't of our blood but irritating nonetheless. At least Dante is favoring caution now instead of rushing ahead as he is usually wont to do.

"Lemme guess, this is the work of the Yamato fragment," Dante drawls out as he continues looking around for our assailant. He turns with barely a flap of his wings, just as the demon's presence spills out as it makes another attack, and lifts his Devil Sword Dante to block the blow with a snarl. Several of his brightly glowing spectral sword pinwheel behind him for barely a second before they lance forwards into the meaty hand that had been trying to swipe at him.

It takes only a thought to send my own trailing behind Dante's, effectively turning the hand of the demon into a pincushion and making it howl in pain. Our counterattacks are just enough to anger it, a hulking and twisted figure stepping through the portal it was using, drawing it out from the safety of wherever it had been hiding. "What an unsightly creature."

"You looked a lot worse as Urizen, Verge, before _and_ after the damn fruit." Dante wrenches his sword to the side, slicing open the palm of the demon and making it howl again. With a beat of his wings my mate moves backwards, out of the demon's range. "Not that it would make a difference if you still looked like that."

"Nice to know that you don't care about my physical appearance, Dante, just that the cock that fills you belongs to me," I surmise as I dart past him and down to score Yamato along the belly of the hulking demon as it reels back. Her blade strikes true, cleaving the hardened skin of the demon open with ease, but still it stands, letting out an enraged roar.

"Stroke yer own ego, why don't ya?" It's half-muttered but still I can hear Dante's heatless retort, my senses finely attuned to him. He careens towards the demon's head as I slip around it's side, driving Yamato through it once more while my mate slashes at its throat. "God, this thing reeks though." And it does, its putrid blood gushing out from wounds that are too slow to knit back together from our combined assault. Innards spill out from its belly, scored with its flesh and the contents of its stomach and intestines mixing in with the blood. "I think I'm gonna hurl."

A small and glimmering object flies out of the demon's throat, Yamato pulsing in my grasp as it falls. I weave around the demon's collapsing form and swoop down to the ground to retrieve the fragment, which had unfortunately landed in a growing pool of blood and bile. Dante retches as he lands beside me, hands on his knees as he promptly doubles over, his demon form receding, and pukes up the few bites of meat he had consumed not too long ago. I snatch up the shard of Yamato, not really caring about its state of cleanliness right now, then step over to my brother to put a hand on his back as I resume my own human form.

It takes Dante several minutes to regain enough control over his stomach for him to straighten up and he immediately presses into my side for comfort. "God, that was horrible," he whines, still looking an unhealthy shade that suggests he might puke again.

I lead him away from the putrid corpse and puddle of vile fluids, taking us deeper into the Underworld, and he appears to get better once we're far enough away that he can't smell any of it anymore. "You seem to be more sensitive to scents around the time of your heats."

"It was like this when I was pregnant with Nero too," he adds with a slight frown, keeping pressed against my side. "How long do you think we'll be here?"

"A few days at most." It is a tentatively hopeful estimate, one that may very well pass before we collect the final two shards of Yamato. There is nothing for us here beyond her shards so once we return to the past we will need to find a place of our own. I will not have Dante subjected to the treatment that Sparda had been giving him. I do not rule over my mate. "No more than a few minutes should pass over there."

"This time travel stuff is weird." Dante pulls away from me to walk on his own, giving me a look that is near indecipherable. "Do ya think anything we do in the past will affect us?"

"It is unlikely that our own past can be changed, Dante, but we can at least ensure that our younger selves will have a bright future of their own." Which reminds me that I still owe Sparda a fight to guarantee that they won't be punished. "Starting with beating father's ass."

"And here I was hoping you would say that we should raise them instead." His tone doesn't sound as joking as it should be. In fact he seems quite serious, enough so that I grab his arm and halt him.

"Dante…" I flounder for the proper words, uncertain of how to tell my mate just how bad of an idea that would be. Sparda will never allow it. Mother will be beside herself. We will be in over our heads with two young half-demons and whatever children of our own that we will undoubtedly have.

"We could stay and help raise them, Verge," he says softly, his expression pleading. "Sparda can't do anything if you challenge him for it and win." And he is absolutely correct in that. For as long as Sparda has lived in the human realm he is still very much a demon, evident in the way that he rules over his home. "And I know you'd win."

"You could easily defeat him on your own, Dante." My brother gives me a wan smile at that and gives a slight shake of his head.

"You saw how he was treating me. He won't acknowledge me and you know it," he says, his expression shifting into a scowl. "So it has to be you."

"You do realize that if I do this we will be completely responsible for their care until they are grown?" I ask even though I know his answer. He has clearly thought this through even before putting the suggestion forward. "Even knowing that we will be having our own nestlings to care for?"

"Yes." His mind is set on this. There will be no talking him out of it and to be honest…I am okay with it.

"Then I will challenge Sparda for the right to claim the nestlings as ours." I release his arm and lift my hand to curl my fingers just under his chin. "As soon as we finish here and return."

"Thank you," he whispers and tilts his head to rub his cheek against my fingers with a purr.

"You need not thank me, little brother," I murmur affectionately and brush my fingers along his jaw. "Now let us continue on." Traveling through the Underworld will be relatively quicker than navigating the human realm and we will have the benefit of our demonic sides being strengthened. It will make the journey for us easier and perhaps give me more time.


End file.
